Nostalgia
by Raimei-chan
Summary: There's always that moment, especially if it's a depressing one, that brings back memories. That is what we refer to as nostalgia. One-shot series, various characters. Rating K for now just to be safe. Reviews appreciated.
1. Lucid Dreams (Mukuro)

Uh, hello, author here. This isn't the first time I write fanfiction, but it's the first time I put fanfiction up somewhere.. Oh well, I hope you enjoy reading~ Reviews would be great as well!

Disclaimer: I do not own KHR! Credit goes to Akira Amano

* * *

_**Lucid Dreams**_

Deep down in an underwater chamber, a boy in his teens was locked in. He was tied up with chains, tubes and wires placed on some parts of his body, the biggest tube on his right eye. A mask was placed on the boy's face, supplying him with oxygen. Looks like they wanted him still alive. He was Rokudo Mukuro, number one most wanted in Vendicare Prison. He was captured now and had no chance of escape. Unless he was communicating with Chrome and had to swap places with her.

It was freezing inside. Not like he could do anything about it. He was underwater, after all. The hard metal of his chains certainly did not help. Mukuro's whole body felt numb. The illusionist sighed. All of this brought back some sort of feeling. It was like if he had experienced this before. Mukuro opened his left eye slightly before closing it again as a flashback began to play in his mind.

* * *

A man walked into a room holding a small boy in his arms. There were many metal cages- large enough to hold a pair of lions- inside. Some were empty, others held children, either alive or dead. Each cage was labeled with a number. The man came across a cage labeled with the faintly visible number '69'. He opened the door and roughly tossed the boy inside. The man then closed the door and locked it before turning around to walk away. The boy inside seemed more dead than alive, but that didn't matter. If he died, they would just replace him. Just like every other test subject in the laboratory. This was the Estraneo Familiga, and sacrifices had to be made for the Family's benefit.

* * *

Rokudo Mukuro couldn't sleep.

The hard, cold surface of his cage greeted him as he was thrown in. He was now laying on his back with his arms at his sides, eyes closed. Speaking of his eyes, he wondered what the scientists had done to his right eye this time. They occasionally experimented on it. Blood caked the right side of the boy's face- starting from his eye and streaming down to his chin. He felt light-headed, possibly from blood loss. It was the same thing everyday.

His stomach couldn't help but give a small whimper. The last thing Mukuro could remember eating was a handful of slightly stale bread an hour before the experiment. He had grown dangerously thinner than he was when he first arrived at the Family's laboratory. Laying down, his shirt flattened against his frail body, with his stomach caved in and his ribs showing. He could even count them.

The very next morning the cycle would repeat itself, with the chance that it might end in death. What had he done to end up as a homeless, parent less test subject? No one could answer that. The boy gave up arguing with himself and closed his eyes. After a while, he suddenly got a strange, itchy feeling on his face, but he ignored it. What would be the point? It would only get worse. He wanted to roll over and sleep on his side, but that would make no difference. He was still inside the hard metal cage. Mukuro resisted the urge to roll his eyes, even though they were closed. Not like he could, anyway. It hurt far too much.

* * *

How much time had passed? Twenty, thirty minutes? It didn't matter anymore. He was still awake. He wanted nothing more than sleep. It was the only time where he was away from the experiments, the screams of pain, everything. Mukuro suddenly felt a weight on his chest, and he let out a soundless breath he didn't realize he was holding. His entire body felt numb. What was happening? Was he... dying? No, he couldn't be. He had gone through worse. But, he never felt like this before. The boy opened his eyes.

And instantly wished he had kept them shut.

Dark, clawed hands lunged at him. Strange shapes with bandaged faces and eyes as red as blood glared at the boy. Mukuro wanted to scream, but his mouth didn't move and his throat made no sound. He felt fear rising in him. He wanted to roll over to his side and close his eyes, but his body was frozen and refused to respond. Was this an effect of the experiment today? Or was he hallucinating? If he was, why? He didn't care. All he wanted was for it to go away.

And it did.

Golden leaves quivered softly in front of him. Birds with feathers of many colors flew in an indigo sky with stars that shone like pearls. But why was this happening? Was the boy dreaming? With his eyes open? Was that even possible? It seemed so. Mukuro closed his eyes, wondering what would happen. He suddenly found himself in a grassland with wide hills, another indigo sky, and trees bearing the reddest apples he had ever seen. The boy reminded himself that none of this was real. The clawed hands, the sky, the hills, it was all like... an illusion. Yes, that was the perfect way to describe it. An illusion that would end as soon as he woke up.

But was that in excuse to not enjoy it?

No, it didn't have to be. It wasn't any normal dream. It was a beautiful one. One that he would enjoy, maybe even eventually control. Mukuro spread his arms wide and fell onto a hill, feeling a soft breeze blow over him. He relaxed. This wasn't so bad after all. The boy now had something to look forward to everyday. A beautiful thing to look forward to everyday.

Mukuro then, for the first time in months, smiled.

* * *

"Sure brings.. memories back, doesn't it..?" Mukuro sighed as he remembered the state he was in.

"Mukuro-sama...?" The quiet voice of Chrome echoed in his head. She had thought he was talking to her. "Is something wrong?" Mukuro chuckled and shook his head.

"It's nothing, dear Chrome," He began. Chrome blinked slowly before nodding. He just smiled. "Just a moment of nostalgia."

_**- Fin -**_

* * *

Author here again, thanks for reading.. Squalo is coming up next, so be on the look out! Ja-ne~!


	2. Head Bruises (Squalo)

Ah, sorry if I took a while, school taking up a lot of my time, and finally I have time to put this up... Anyway, this one is a bit longer than the first one. Squalo is a pretty tough character to write about, to be honest. Anyway, we now have our shark~ Enjoy reading~! Some reviews would be nice as well!

Disclaimer: I do not own KHR! Credit goes to Akira Amano

* * *

_**Head Bruises**_

The door of a bedroom was slammed open. A long-haired man walked in, muttering angrily to himself. He slammed the door shut and rubbed his head before wincing in pain when he found a new bruise.

"Stupid Boss..." He growled. It was another "normal" day at the Varia Mansion, which consisted of fighting, eating, missions and more fighting. Squalo, the infamous long-haired second-in-command, had just gone through it with yet another injury. He cursed his Boss, Xanxus, under his breath as he ran his hand through his hair again.

He usually never minded the injuries, he would rampage for a while before forgetting about it. Today he was, however, fed up with this. A day never passed without Squalo getting hit on the head with something. Never. He was tired of having to wake up every morning finding strands of silver hair all over the place due to stress, and have a throbbing head for days before he would heal- only to get injured again. Speaking of injuries, he remembered feeling like this before. But when? Squalo sighed and closed his eyes as a flashback replayed in his mind.

* * *

A beautiful woman was standing behind a finely made chair in a grand living room. Her silver-haired son was sitting on the chair, his arms folded around his knees, waiting patiently as his mother ran a brush through the boy's hair.

"Squalo..." She said suddenly, a frown forming on her face. "You really should take more care of your hair, do you even wash it after practice?" Squalo was a fencing prodigy and had professional lessons everyday. The boy sighed and gave his usual answers.

"No, Mom. Sorry, Mom."

He winced as his mother undid a tangle in his hair, even though she did it as gently as possible, it hurt the same. As she ran the brush through Squalo's hair again, she stopped suddenly. He thought it might be another tangle, but it wasn't. His mother put the brush down on a small table and ran her fingers at the place where she stopped. Squalo winced. She had found the bruise.

"Squalo, what happened?" She asked, eyeing her son worriedly.

"I slipped." He said flatly, rolling his eyes at his own foolishness. How did he not notice the wet floor as he walked back home from practice?

* * *

Squalo's mother sighed and rubbed the boy's head softly after a few minutes.

"Squalo, sometimes, I swear, I don't know what to do with you..." He couldn't help but feel a bit ashamed of himself. It was the same thing everyday, but today he felt guiltier than ever. His mother seemed to have noticed this and smiled lightly. "Let me teach you a trick my mother taught me, Squalo." Squalo turned his head to the side a little and gave his mother a puzzled look. "Whenever you get bumps on your head," She began, still massaging his head. "Do it gently, but for your hair.." His mother then roughly ruffled Squalo's hair but also being careful not to touch the bruise.

"V-voi! That hurts!" The boy yelled, grabbing his hair with his hands in an attempt to not get any further harm.

"I'm sorry." His mother said and stopped instantly.

Squalo had quite a strange habit of yelling out "Voi" in times of pain, anger or distress, but it was very rare. It almost the only word he said as a toddler, since he heard it frequently, and over time, it stuck. Unlike him, his mother had a soft, quiet voice. Squalo had taken his powerful voice from his father, but most of his looks were from her. Her long, silky silver hair was draped over one shoulder. The boy found it amazing and beautiful. He heard that many people had wanted to marry her for this. His father was the lucky man and took her before everyone else. Squalo felt a little bit of pride spread in him, he had his mother's looks. Well, most of them. Due to this, he had stole the hearts of girls who lived nearby, not on purpose of course. Whenever they tried to win him over to their side, he, much to their dismay, shattered their hopes by excusing himself and walking away.

"How's that trick of yours supposed to help?" Squalo asked, rubbing his head. His mother then chuckled a bit.

"You know, that's what I told my mother when she first taught me how to do it. It hurts at first, but then you get used to it and you end up with silky, soft hair and," She paused for a moment and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "A pretty much bruise-less head." Squalo just blinked at this. His mother laughed. "Go on, now, you'll be late for your next lesson." She said before dismissing him. Squalo hopped off the chair and walked away. He couldn't help but smile. He wanted his mom to be happy- No, proud. Yes, very proud. Of him. The boy ran his fingers through his hair and found the bruise. It didn't hurt anymore, but it was still there, almost like a reminder of his goal.

A proud, nonchalant grin spread across his face. He was Superbi Squalo. All he needed was pride. As long as he had it, nothing stood in his way.

* * *

He wondered about that now.

The technique his mother taught him always worked for his hair, but never for his bruises. Was he not gentle enough? He was doing it for years-no, half his life! And the effect never made it to his bruises. Squalo grumbled angrily. He was foolish to think it would work. All the bruises and bumps would still be there. The swordsman rubbed his head one last time before stopping suddenly. He felt a small dent on that side of his head. It was the same place where he got his first bruise, but it had shrunk over time and became a small dent. A reminder of his long-forgotten goal. "This feeling..." He began, holding a fistful of silver hair before letting go of it.

"It's called nostalgia, huh?" Squalo stayed quiet for a while, shook his head and walked back outside. All he needed was pride, and nothing else.

_**- Fin -**_

* * *

I will try to put up the next one as soon as possible, when I'm free, hopefully. I would appreciate some reviews, I've already gotten one! Anyway, the next one shall be Byakuran~ Be on the look out for it, see you~!


	3. Sweet Petals (Byakuran)

I am so sorry for making you guys wait... I got the chance to put this up now... Here's Byakuran, as promised. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own KHR! Credit goes to Akira Amano.

* * *

_**Sweet Petals**_

A white-haired man was reclined on a plush couch in the middle of a white colored room. The room had large windows that allowed him to look out at the clear blue sky. On a table in front of the couch, was a bowl that was once filled with sweets and a vase filled with white roses. The man stared at the roses, up close, his keen eye could tell that they were beginning to wilt. The man was Byakuran, the Boss of the Millefiore Familiga.

The metallic door in one corner of the room suddenly slid open. Another man, holding a clipboard in one hand and a jar of sweets in the other, walked in. Byakuran turned his head towards the man and smiled, his eyes closed.

"Hello, Leo-kun." Leonardo Lippi stopped and gave a hesitant but respectful nod.

"G-good afternoon, Byakuran-sama." Byakuran nodded as well and turned his head back to the roses.

"Are there any reports today?" He asked. Leonardo put the jar of sweets down on the table in front of Byakuran and opened his clipboard.

"There are no reports today, none from the Black or White Spells." He read before closing it.

"I see." Byakuran replied quietly, taking a marshmallow from the jar and squeezed it slightly for a while before popping it into his mouth.

Byakuran sighed. He was bored. Very bored. The Vongola hunt had been dragging on for a while. He knew why, of course. A ring signal would be detected, then disappear as quickly as it had appeared. It was all the Vongola's doing. Either out of cowardice or over confidence, were they taunting him? Byakuran knew that Irie Shoichi, the captain of the White Spell's second squad, was hiding something. That something lead to the Vongola. All Byakuran had to do was find out.

His thoughts were interrupted by the beep of Leonardo's watch. Leonardo quickly looked at it. "Oh. Excuse me, Byakuran-sama, I have something else to do at the control room." He then picked up the vase filled with roses and walked out of the room, leaving Byakuran alone.

* * *

But Leonardo did not go to the control room. A smirk formed on his face and he tossed the vase into the waste disposal. He walked up to a door that had a sign on it with the words "Authorized Personnel Only". Leonardo pulled a card out of his pocket and held it in front of the scanner and the door opened. The smirk faded and he looked behind him to make sure he was not followed. He didn't have much time. He had to do this quick. Leonardo then walked in and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Byakuran walked up to the window and stood with his arms behind him, staring out into the empty sky. He knew Leonardo was hiding something as well. Byakuran was not that easy to trick. He sighed and closed his eyes, sinking into his complicated thoughts, trying to bring his focus away from the Vongola- no, not just the Vongola, the mafia itself. He decided to focus on flowers and sweets instead. Roses and marshmallows made a nice combination, but white zinnias or mallows were better... The smile faded from the Boss' face as a memory materialized in his mind.

* * *

A woman was sitting at a counter in her shop. A basket of red roses with a box of chocolate inside was next to her. She was doing her paperwork when she suddenly looked up.

"Byakuran!" She called. A small boy with spiky white hair and wide lavender eyes ran up to her. The woman, who was his mother, smiled at him and ruffled his hair. "Would you please check on the flowers?"

* * *

It was a small shop in the fine roads in Italy, but it was one that was visited quite often. His mother believed that sweets and flowers should be sold together and ran her business for quite a while. It was a good one. Customers would stop by at least once a week, buying sweets and their matching flowers. Roses and dark chocolate were a best seller for couples, so were daisies and white chocolate...

"Mommy?" The quiet voice of Byakuran rung about the shop. The boy walked back, holding a few buttercups in his hands. The petals were so close to his face that the color reflected on his chin. "Why do we pick the buttercups and not sell them? Aren't they flowers too?" He asked, his head tilted to the side, bewildered. It was his daily job to check on the flowers and remove any buttercups he found. His mother took the buttercups and put them in a separate vase.

"They are flowers," She began. There was a small jar of sweets that she kept for herself and Byakuran. She opened it and took out a cube of butter toffee. "But they're kind of like butter toffee, they stick in places we don't want and too much are harmful." The boy stared at her, not quite understanding but he nodded anyway. "Now that I think about it," She said quietly, staring at the buttercups. "Buttercups and butter toffee might be nice together, or maybe with lollipops..." Byakuran's mother drifted off into her thoughts, thinking about what she could do to make the yellow flowers useful.

"Mommy? How come you know what flowers to sell with what sweets?" The boy asked. His mother looked at him and smiled.

"That's easy." She said. "All you have to do is match the flower's meaning with a sweet that seems fitting." This only caused Byakuran to become more confused.

"The flower's... meaning?" He asked. His mother sighed and picked up Byakuran, letting him sit on the chair she was sitting on a while ago.

"Flowers have many meanings," She began and pointed to the basket of roses. "Red roses mean love," She then pointed to a basket cedars. "And cedars mean strength..."

Byakuran watched her with his eyes wide, full of interest. His mother was very happy with her business. Oh, how wonderful she felt when she saw customers walking out of the shop, happy with the flowers and sweets they bought for their loved ones. He loved seeing his mother happy, it made him happy too. This led to him trying to be cheerful at least as long as possible, keeping his real emotions behind a smile and only showing them in front of his mother. Byakuran and his mother lived a easy, happy life, and he wanted it to last forever.

But the mafia took it all away.

* * *

"Byakuran-sama?"

Byakuran snapped to the present and turned his head around sharply, only to see Leonardo. Byakuran had a smile on his face instantly.

"Leo-kun?" Leonardo was holding a vase filled with different flowers.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking at the Boss worriedly. Byakuran nodded and looked back outside.

"Apologies, I just spaced out for a moment..." Leonardo considered this before nodding and placing the vase on the table. Byakuran turned his head around and stared at the vase's contents. White carnations, forget-me-nots, periwinkles, and, were those buttercups? This attracted the attention of the Boss and he walked up to the vase. "Do you know what the meaning of these flowers is?" Byakuran asked, keeping his eyes on the buttercups. Leonardo, who was about to leave, looked at his Boss then at the vase.

"Umm, I'm not too sure, Byakuran-sama." Byakuran gave a small chuckle.

"It's quite simple. White carnations mean innocence, forget-me-nots remembrance, periwinkles sweet memories, and as for buttercups..." He then paused and gently pulled a buttercup out of the vase. "They mean memories of childhood." Byakuran held the yellow flower so close to his face that the color reflected on his chin. "They all share the same meaning, memories. In other words," The Boss turned to Leonardo, a smile on his face. "Nostalgia."

_**- Fin -**_

* * *

Sneaky Leo-kun~ So, yeah, fluff moment with mom~ Did I make his past a bit sad...? Gomen-ne, I figured it might be fitting. Anyways, next one shall be Fran! Be on the look out for it~! Some reviews might be nice, and thanks to those who reviewed and followed! Ja-ne!


	4. IMPORTANT NOTICE (Author's note)

**Hey, minna~ **

Sorry, this isn't a chapter, I just have an important announcement to make. Due to my final exams coming up, I might not be able to put up the new chapter for quite a while, as my parents are taking the laptop away so I can study well. I'll probably be active again around... June 20th or later. Sorry everyone, I promise to put up the new chapter _as soon_ as the exams finish, until then thanks to the people who have read/reviewed/followed! Ja-ne~!


	5. Imaginary Friends (Fran)

Minna, please forgive me for making you wait! It is summer after all, and I finally got the chance to get on here.. Here is Fran, as promised! Sorry if it is shorted than before.. Fran is quite hard to work with.. Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own KHR! Credit goes to Akira Amano.

* * *

_**Imaginary Friends**_

Dawn was just beginning at a large forest in Italy. One of the many trees there was slightly taller and stranger than the rest. There were silver knives stuck in its trunk, some tilting downwards due to the amount of time they had been in there. This was not the first time knives were found on the tree, however. There were small cuts on the trunk proving so. A boy who seemed to be in his early teens sat on one of the tree's high branches, which was sturdy enough for him to have one leg laid out in front of him, the other folded. He was pulling knives out of his frog hat, occasionally bending one before dropping it to the ground. This was Fran, the replacement Mist Guardian of the Varia.

It wasn't like him to be up this early, but he woke up only to have, according to the –fake– prince, some enemy locating training. In other words, a lethal version of hide and seek. Fran was the one hiding, Belphegor the one looking for him. The tree Fran sat on was not quite the ideal place to hide, but then again all the trees were like that. He had set up an illusion to disguise him for a while, but it would soon wear off, and Belphegor was not that easy to trick. Fran sighed at this and gently massaged his forehead, trying to work his thoughts out. A squirrel looked at him curiously before climbing up his arm and sitting on the boy's shoulder. Fran frowned, something he did not do in front of others, and brushed it off his shoulder. "You're not helping." He muttered. The squirrel vanished at once. It was not real. It was just an illusion.

Was it?

The hand on his forehead curled up into a fist as his thoughts swirled in his head. If he got distracted, Belphegor would find him quickly. However, wouldn't that be the same conclusion he would get if he was hiding somewhere else? Fran lightly bumped his forehead with his hand and stood up; he could have sworn he heard the malicious laugh of the prince nearby. He looked around, aiming for a sturdy, bare branch. He found one and leaped off, landing silently on it. Fran, however, was not yet satisfied. He wanted to move as far as possible from the tree he was first on, and quickly. Belphegor had changed the rules. It wasn't the game hide and seek anymore.

It was a murderous one of tag.

* * *

As he hopped from tree to tree, Fran's thoughts danced about in his head. The same squirrel that had settled on his shoulder before sat there again, watching. The boy made no effort to get rid of it, even though it was just his imagination. It would only come back. In some way, it was a bit comforting, as he felt less lonely; in fact, he would have rather had it sit there all the time. Fran took one quick glance around him before changing direction, blinking slowly as a flashback bounced into his brain.

* * *

"Fran, are you paying attention?"

A child wearing an apple hat, who was sitting with his head resting on his propped up arm, blinked as the teacher stared at him. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before nodding. The teacher narrowed his eyes at Fran and turned around resuming the lesson. Fran stared at the chalkboard that the teacher had filled with diagrams and figures, before spacing out again. He was a pain to all the teachers in his school; a day never passed without one of them yelling at him to get his head out of the clouds and pay attention. Some had tried moving the boy's seat and keeping him after class, but it was no use.

It wasn't that Fran didn't understand the lessons –oh no, the boy was a genius. It was just that something always invaded his concentration. The teachers had spent day after day in trying to get rid of that something. Talking to his grandmother did not raise their hopes. In fact, their wasted efforts became the result. They gave up on Fran in the end, the single thought of it being his fault for failing etched in their heads.

* * *

"Excuse me, can we sit here?" A girl with a couple of her friends asked. It was lunch, and everyone was outside, eating, playing or talking with each other. Fran, who was sitting alone –at least that was what it seemed to be to the other children– at a table, shook his head.

"My friends are sitting here." He said, his hollow eyes staring at them. The girl exchanged glances with her friends before turning around and leaving. A few gave Fran weird looks before following her. To his whole class, he was the odd one out, and they chose to ignore him almost completely. Fran didn't care much; he didn't like any of his classmates anyway.

"How rude," He sighed when the girl and her friends were out of earshot. "Didn't they notice that you guys are here?" To a normal person, it would seem like the boy was talking to himself. That didn't occur to Fran, however. He was talking with what he considered friends, and he alone was able to see them. His grandmother, when asked about it, simply stated that they were imaginary and he would forget about them eventually.

But to Fran, forgetting them was something he almost never thought of.

His friends were always with him, and he only preferred to tell them his inner feelings. He would spend almost the whole day with them, until a teacher would tell him to pay attention. There were times when Fran felt inseparable with his friends, and he liked it.

Good things, however, come to an end.

* * *

"Ushishishi, caught you, frog."

Fran sighed as the –fake– prince landed in front of him, a triumphed grin on his face. Fran's thoughts got the better of him and resulted in getting caught. "Yeah, yeah, Bel-senpai, whatever." He said, shrugging. Behind his bangs, Belphegor raised an eyebrow and made mental calculations of the time that it had taken him to catch Fran. It was quicker than their last training session.

"Ushishi, you can't even hide properly." The prince said, folding his arms behind his head. Fran blinked once before shrugging again.

"Nah, you were just lucky," He said, causing Belphegor's grin to disappear and be replaced with a confused frown. "I just spaced out for a moment, right?" Fran glanced at a nearby tree, where the squirrel now sat. It gave him a look of curiosity before disappearing. Belphegor stared at him.

"Who on earth are you talking to?"

Fran looked back at Belphegor, and refrained himself from rolling his eyes. Instead he sighed and shook his head.

"Does it look like there's anyone else here?" His voice, which was usually monotonous, now had a hint of rudeness and sarcasm. In response, a silver knife was thrown at him and it hit the center of his frog hat.

* * *

The sun had risen now, and it was time to go back. Belphegor left after threatening Fran with death if his knives were brought back bent and unpolished. _Well,_ thought Fran. _It's too late for that._ He took one last, nostalgic look at the forest before leaving, and, in the shadows, pairs of eyes watched, before disappearing almost magically.

**____****- Fin -**

* * *

Sorry again for the shortness and the long wait.. To make it up, I shall make you guys vote who will star the next one! It's Spanner against Mammon. I will leave it up for around... two weeks or less? I think it will be enough time to have both of them done. Thanks again to everyone who followed, favorited, reviewed, i really appreciate it. Look out for the next one, be it Spanner or Mammon, Ja-ne~!

**Important Announcement:** Starting from today, I will make very minor edits to chapters, don't worry, it's only small things like new paragraphs when someone else is speaking, ect. the actual text will not change.


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